The Adventures of Tom Bombadil
by Hbk8998
Summary: Tom Bombadil, one of the smallest parts in Lord of the Rings, but with great power. This is a story of his rise to the top in a place several years in the future after the 3rd movie. Peace has settled amongst the land, but for how long?


_**The Adventures of Tom Bombadil**_

Brought to you By Mike Thompson

Peace had settled on the little town of Bombadilville, weapons lay strewn about the battlefield in a artistic mosaic representation of the souls that had wielded such weapons of destruction. The mist was growing heavy on the shores, and a single figure could be seen in the middle of all the carnage. From a distance it could of been a number of things from a garden gnome, to just a pile of weapons with a hat placed on it. Tom Bombadil sat in the middle of the field contemplating his next move. All out war had broken out between the forces of good and evil. Two paths lied before Tom, he may repay the debt he owed to the elves, or he may join the forces of evil and continue his search for ultimate power.

As of now he resided in the small town of Bombadilville, a patch of land that he had taken for his own, and as of now was neutral territory in the war. Once he decided his position in the war this would become a major gathering places of troops for it was a strategic point for either side. Laying smack dab in between the good continent, and the evil continent. Bombadilville lied on a island connected to both continents via two land bridges.

War had recently broken out, due mostly to the fact that some dwarves had recently discovered a new mineral deep within Mount Doom, this mineral was special. The name of this substance was adrenium. It was admirably endurant compared to most other things used in weapons, but the kick to the weapon was when held, adrenium leeks onto the users skin, which in turn increases adrenaline manufacturing, and output, thus turning the user into a savage war beast who feels no pain. When seen on the battlefield these savages were feared by all, limbs were hacked off. Chests stabbed, and fire spewing over their bodies, but still they charged on unaware of their afflictions . There was nothing wrong with this at all, except for the fact that the dwarves found it in evil territory and Sauron and his followers believed the Adrenium was theirs because the mineral resided in their territory, however the dwarves had been given the permission to dig there, and believe it is there because they discovered it.

As of now the main force of each side was gathered at Mount Doom, and others were making their way here. This island that Tom Bombadil occupied was a meeting point of enemies, for the good had to get to mount doom, and the evil were trying to stop them.

Tom Dressed in Blue from head to foot, with a beard that would make Grizzly Adams blush, had a soft hat that rested atop his head, with a small feather poking out one end. His normally jolly expression had been wiped from his face, in its place lay splatter patterns of blood, that echoed the screams of his victims. On his back laid a ukelele, made of wood but was coated in a harsh coat of steel, with jutting edges, and diamond wire. The wire emitted a sound that made fairies dance, and trees would rip their roots out of the ground to follow him, woodland animals, predators and prey a lot would stop the hunt to follow his wonderful melody. He Pulled his Ukelele off his back and strummed a few notes as he began to walk. The mist around him began to swirl and change color, it became a beautiful purple mixed with a sky blue seen but only once a year, and the weapons rose from the ground and began to clang together to form a beat suitable for his tune. The torn bodies on the battlefield rose up in unison, and began to dance to the jingle that even after death lifter their souls in happiness.

_Tom Bombadil be I be I_

_Along this island I shall lie_

_Deciding the future of this world _

_Waiting for its faith to unfurl _

_Tom Bombadil be my name_

_My songs never remain the same_

_Jolly though I seem to be_

_A demon waits inside of me_

_He thirsts for blood he thirst for violence_

_But through this song I shall silence_

_the voice inside that tears apart_

_My jolly exterior and breaks my heart._

_He comes out in a tornado of death_

_And steals from everyone their last breath_

_Tom Bombadil Be he Be he_

_But Tom Bombadil not be me_

_I try to shut him out and live me life_

_But out he comes ready to fight_

_A curse though it seems to be_

_I enjoy the demon inside of me_

_I mean no harm I mean no pain_

_but part of me wants to ride this train_

_part of me loves the demon inside_

_I cant fight back, no matter how hard I try _

_Tom Bombadil be I be I_

_I am the demon that lives inside_

_Jolly though I seem to be_

_Ill kill you if you mess with me. _

As the dancing subsided, and the weapons settled upon their final resting place Tom Bombadil made his way to the eastern bridge, on his way to the evil sanctum. He had made up his mind, he would repay his debt to the elves, and follow his dream of becoming the leader of middle earth.

Middle earth in the past years was set up on a new form of government. Before the ring was destroyed the one who held the ring held the power. Now Middle earth needed a new way to choose its leader. The fellowship was set up as the cabinet of the leader, and served as the legislative branch of the world, they created the laws, the leader and his minions/followers enforced them. While one representative from each race was placed on a grand court, in order to decide the punishment of those who chose to break the laws.

The leader on the other hand is now chosen by a competition. A arena was established, Hundreds of thousands were entering, famous faces, such as Aragon, Gimli, and Legalos were expected to enter the competition the last person standing would be chosen as the new leader of middle earth. Tom Bombadil planned to go warm up at Mt. Doom.

He made his way down the road trying to stay clear of any troops, friendly or not. He was in no mood for conversation, there were a lot of things were on his mind at the time. The annual arena Tournament would be held within a month, and he had been away from the battle for a long time, and although age was of no factor for him, he was well aware that his skills may have dwindled in the time. His Adversaries had been dabbling in politics in the years after the ring was lost, but training on a daily basis had not taken a backseat to their political duties, Aragon, Gimli, and Legalos were just as sharp if not sharper then they were years ago when he first encountered them. If he hoped to succeed in the Arena, then he must get in as much practice as he could get.

He turned to the left and saw a elven camp and several groups of archers sharpening there silverthorn arrows. Tom was tempted to have some fun with them, but he suppressed the evil urge. Tom felt as if he was locked in a eternal battle with his inner self, part of him was a savage beast waiting for something to go wrong, feeding on the worries, and inner torments of other. His other side was a kinder gentler side, that only wanted to help others, and tried his best to bring joy into others life. The resulting personality of Mr. Bombadil was inbetween, but sometimes slid too far to one side of the scale, and when it did, those in his way would be caught in a fiery storm of rage and hatred that turned them to dust.

Ever since the War of the Ring had come to an end he had vowed to remain to a secluded life in Bombadilville. He told himself that staying away from the violence would keep the demon in him dormant. He was correct for a while, but with the discovery of Adrenium more and more troops and more and more battles were waging just footsteps from his home. With every proceeding day he could feel the urges rising to the surface, thoughts came to mind to rip...tear...rip...tear. Finally he decided the only way to end the war was to put an end to it himself. However he wanted more, he wanted power. He had thought it over long and hard, he felt, no he knew that he was the only one with enough discipline to run this world. It was his destiny to be the leader.

Through the night he walked on, feeding on whatever woodland creatures were unlucky enough to cross his path. He walked on for several days without stopping, for Tom sleep was but a luxury. He could perform for weeks without the need of more then a hour of sleep. Finally on the dawn of fifth day he saw the peek of Mt. Doom, stretching over the horizon. An excitement filled him, and his anticipation grew, he felt his blood began to pump, and he broke out into a run.

His footsteps thundered against the ground. As he ran a plume of dust rose up behind him as his speed increases. The roar of battle became louder and louder and Tom found himself Standing on the edge of one of the largest battles he had ever seen.

**Chapter 2- Old Friends**

Sparks rose into the sky as swords clanged together, the sun was rising slowly into the sky, and reinforcements were hours away. Aragon swung his sword and deflected a nearby urks weapon and drove his blade deep into his enemy. The Urk let out a groan and fell to his knees, clutching his stomach. Aragons breath came in ragged gasps, he had been battling for hours, and had slain hundreds. The enemy forces seemed to flow continuously as if a river. Aragons arms grew heavy and his sword scraped against the ground as he ran forward his sword scraped against the ground creating a dazzling display of sparks.

The good forces were dwindling and being forced back by the sheer power of numbers. Doubt began to rise up in Aragons Mind even as he ran into a fresh troop and was hacking fiercely, with every swing a wave of pain was sent through his body, causing him to shake uncontrollably. His hope of pushing the enemy was dwindling even more with every wave of enemy he saw marching down the mountain side.

A shield had come crashing down on his head from behind. A darkness began to cloud his vision, he opened his eyes and he was lying on the ground staring at his bloodied sword five feet away. He tried to get to his feet, but apparently someone had replaced what used to be his legs with blocks of lead. The Urks drew closer, and Aragon tried with all his might to raise to his feet, he could feel tiny beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.

Aragon raised his head and saw the Urks closing in on him, the last bit of hope was floating away from him, when the Ground shook and dust rode up from the ground in front of him. He tried to focus on the figure, but his head became racked with pain. His eyes swivelled in his sockets, but he tried valiantly to hold on.

The figure in front of him let out a ferocious roar and charged into the Urk ranks, pushing them back and clearing the area. Blood splashed on the ground in puddles. The air was still filled with the roar of battle, but the immediate area had been cleared of all turmoil.

"Come with me old Friend" the figure said to Aragon.

Aragon attempted to smile, but found that he lacked the strength to do so, and with that last feeble attempt at a sign of gratitude, Aragon passed out. Leaving the battlefield behind.

Gimli Swung Aragons limp body of his shoulder and felt the steady rhythm of heart. Gimli was heartened by that simple sign of life. Gimli ran full stride back to the main camp. Aragon was not seriously injured but instead completely exhausted, Aragon running into the battle more then 5 hours ago had battled with the strength of a titan. The blow to the back of the head was the final card in the deck, he was out of cards.

Gimli turned to his left and saw a strange figure in the distance, charging the enemy flanks with amazing speed, perplexed for a moment Gimli came to a complete stop, and stared. The figure was quite tall, and from the silhouette looked quite strong. The figure was charging the enemies flanks, and within seconds collided with the enemies. The next moment almost cause Gimli to drop Aragon completely, when the figure collided with one of the larger forces the figure drilled through them with the effectiveness of a battering ram, and sent hundreds of Urks flying into the air, at heights reaching almost 60 feet. Gimli stared in total awe, the figure had drove his fist completely through the gut of one of the urks.

Aragon groaned, snapping Gimli out of his stupor, Gimli began to run again. He could see the camp no more then a hundred feet away, and he ran harder.

He reached the camp and informed the infirmary captain, Perethis, about the situation. Perethis immediately called forth two elven nurses, they carried Aragon to the medical hut, were they would let him get some rest.

It was time like this that Gimli wished that Gandalf was still around. After the War of the ring had come to an end, Gandalf disappeared, no one had heard from him since then. It was said that he was off in the mountain contemplating the questions of life, others have said that he is off trying to strengthen his abilities to a unprecedented level. Some just claimed that he had died.

Search parties had been sent out to find him, but Gimli had no hope of this yielding any results. If gandalf didn't wish to be found he wouldn't be. Gandalf always told them "A wizard arrives precisely when he is needed".

"well" Gimli thought "we need you Gandalf" Gimli looked around half expecting him to appear in his usual robes, with his tattered staff, sadly he did not. Gimli decided that like Aragon he was in much need of sleep as well. Keeping his hopes up that they could hold the back the tide while he slept he stumbled to his cot, and within seconds of his head hitting the pillow he was out.

His quiver grew empty as he launched arrow after arrow down into the troops below. Legalos felt seat trickling down his face as his face contorted with rage, trying to save as many of his own men as he could. With a troop of archers behind him on there hard wooden platform it was as god had cast a rain of arrows down on the urks. Legalos and his troop prevented as many people as they could from passing them. To the east he saw two Uruks carrying something very large between them.

With growing fear he loaded a arrow into his bow, pulled the string taut and let a arrow fly directly into the Uruk on the left. The arrow struck its mark, but the Uruk only stumbled, and continued its trek. Legalos quickly loaded another arrow and let it fly, striking the Uruk clearly in the eye. The bomb hit the ground with a thud, and Legalos almost let a sigh of relief leave him, when he saw two urks rush from the sides to replace their fallen friend. They had picked up speed and were rushing the tower.

Legalos turned to his troop and shouted "RUN" With that him, and his troops leaped over the edge. The bomb was planted and the fuse was lit. Legalos Sprinted Across the battlefield, and turned up towards mount doom and saw a battle raging on the path leading up to the main mine. To his Surprise, the Elves, Dwarves, and Humans had pushed them back the enemy forces to near the entrance of the mine. Legalos had made his way to the base of the mountain and was running his hand along the edge, feeling the contours of the mountain, but also felt the blood of many running down the mountain pooling at the base, creating what Legalos thought as a river of souls.

He swung around a corner, and pulled out his dual swords, and Charged Straight into a group of urks. Slicing through them gracefully, and chopping through fragments of bone as if they were butter. He quickly dispatched those standing in his way and turned to the right and was racked with pain as he was pinned to the wall. Blood Trickled off the mountain into his hair dying it red, flowing into his eyes stinging them. He blinked it away, as his vision started to blur. He focused and realized he was being pinned to the wall by the fist of an attack troll. The Warty skin, the foul breath that smelled of death, combined with his beady little eyes, almost made Legalos wretch.

The Troll swung its club behind its head, and brought it back with devastating power, Legalos was waiting for his life to life to flash before his life. He Felt as if he was sitting there waiting to die, when suddenly he felt his body drop to the ground.

Legalos rubbed the blood out of his eyes and looked up and saw the troll lying on the ground, with a man launching devastating blows into the creatures ugly mug. As the man pounded away Legalos could see his muscles expanding and contracting. The beast was flailing as if being tazered, and then with one final punch, and a sickening crunch, the troll lay motionless on the ground. The mysterious man turned around and faced Legalos, and favored him with a grin. The man then leaped off the lifeless body, and sprinted off into the distance. Legalos lay there perplexed at what he just seen.

**Chapter 3- A Great Return**

Toms Adrenalin was pumping, his strength was returning, his speed increasing, and his mind becoming sharper. The beast in him was being released, but he knew, that if he didn't stop soon, he never would. He could feel his rage building as more and more urks fell at his hands.

Tom was trying to shift himself to the other side of the scale, but the more Urks that ran at him, and the more that fell at his feet, the harder it became. He had to find somewhere secluded to rest for a little while, otherwise he would completely lose control of himself.

Tom ran to the edge of the forest, and just sat down at the edge of a sycamore. He gritted his teeth, and grinded them back and forth until his jaws ached, and his eyes teared. He felt himself slipping back to neutral.

He had just recently run into people he would be facing at the Arena. He had saved Legalos from death, and was going to save Aragon before Gimli stepped in, he wanted to be guaranteed at least some competition for his rise to power. With that thought he felt himself slip a little more to his demon side. He let a evil grin slide out, and then quickly dismissed it.

While lying there, the roar of battle still filled his ears. He surveyed the battle field, bodies laid scattered and the sun burned high over head. The mountain itself cast a large shadow across the battlefield, illuminated only the fire of catapults. High up in the air what looked like flocks of birds, revealed themselves as arrows as they penetrated troops on the battle field. As the Light shined on the mountain, it appeared a to be a crimson wave bearing down on them all. The clouds in the sky swirled creating a ominous feeling.

Tom began to look... actually look at the clouds, and realized that they were swirling faster and faster until the form of an eye was visible high up in the sky. With a brilliant flash of light that made Tom squint. A blade of lighting came down and struck the ground, leaving a smoldering crater in its place, and standing in the middle of that crater was the leader of the evil forces... Sauramon.

Sauramon locked eyes with Tom, and that moment seemed to drag on. Tom could feel the power of the man pulsating through the battlefield. It was apparent to Tom that his power had grown exponentially since the last time they had met. Even the Great Gandalf may have had a problem with this whole new Sauramon.

He strutted down the battlefield. A swarm of arrows were arching through the air coming at Sauramon, he turned towards them, aimed his staff at them and turned them into quite ironically, a flock of birds, which caught the air and took flight. Tom realized his rest had come to an end.

Aragon Woke from his slumber, and sat up quickly, and a shot of pain rain through his body going up his spine into his skull He slowly lowered his feet off his bed, and spotted his stuff by the entrance of the tent. He stumbled over and studied the interior of the tent. There was precious little medical supplies for vast majority of people residing with him in the tent. Most were a lot worse off then he was some had mild lacerations, others having major guts across there chest or face, while some were missing limbs entirely. Aragon considered himself lucky, he opened the flap of the tent and stepped outside. The sun burned his eyes and first and it took him a minute to adjust, as his eyes began to adjust he saw a impressive figure walking down the battlefield.

It was not the same figure who had saved him, it was taller and carried a staff. He then saw another new figure emerging from the forest. It was not as tall as the first figure but twice as wide, and even from the distance Aragon could see a dangerous glint in his eyes. He picked up his sword and armor, and fitted himself up as he ran down the battlefield. The clouds ahead were dispersing. Pain racked Aragons body as he ran closer and closer to the scene. He stopped and fell to his knees, he looked up and was no more then 30 feet away from the two warriors. He recognized one as Sauramon, the grey wizard who with Gandalf had disappeared after the war of the ring. The other Man was A tall figure, not as tall as Sauramon but still daunting in size. His outfit was peculiar at best. Aragon just realized how quiet the battle had become. A blanket of silence seemed to settle around them.

Neither man noticed Aragon, their eyes were locked on each other, as if daring the other to make the first move. Before Aragon could even realize that someone had moved a bolt of lighting flew from Sauramons, staff and struck the area were other man had been standing seconds ago. The other man had rolled to the side and was now running at Sauramon.

Bolts of lightning were flying past the large man, missing him by scant inches. Aragon could feel the heat of the bolts warming his face, searing his eyebrows. Sauramon twirled his staff, emitting a orange light, that wrapped around the air itself, and for a second, Aragon could not draw breath it was as all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air itself. The light expanded and contracted into itself, finally dissapparating, with a brilliant flash of light leaving a legion of trolls in its place.

The man dressed in blue jumped on the nearest troll, and jammed his thumb in its eye. The troll let out a howl of pain, flailing its arms in the air. One of the blows landed cleanly into the mans side. The man Grimaced slightly but Launched his fist into the troll and drove it threw to the other side. He picked up the nearest rock and brought it down on the second trolls head, effectively knocking it out. The third Troll came at him and released its fist into the mans stomach, and brought his other arm down on the mans head. The man fell to the ground, and strangely enough he was grinning.

Aragon didn't know who the man was but if he was fighting Sauramon chances were they were on the same side. Aragon picked up his sword and ran at the troll, and jumped into the air, and managed to cleanly bring the sword through the head, and out of the chin. The troll slumped to the ground, and as Aragon turned to Sauramon, he was caught in the chest with a ball of fire that carried him back, and sent him skidding across the ground finally coming to a stop when his back slammed against a rock.

Tom lay facing the ground, laughing blowing dust back into his own face with each breath of air he let out. The man Aragon had jumped to attempt to save him, he must remember this. Sauramon felt that he held the upper hand, he stood there the feeling of superiority leaking off of him. Tom felt himself sliding to the Demon side of the scale, Dangerously fast. He felt the power in him rising. It was coming to a high, he hadn't felt this way in years. Sauramon brought the staff down on his back and it started to heat up drastically, Tom relished the pain and let it feed his rage.

Sauramon stood above him, feeling superior, ready to deliver the final blow. His staff glowed with power, and the heat was radiating off it. Sweat dripped of Toms nose, falling to the ground with drips and drops that seemed to echo in the soundless bubble they were in.

The rage was almost at its peak, and his eyes were a fiery red, casting a reflection off the ground. Sauramon raised his staff high above his ehad and brought it down with thunderous force, splitting the ground it touched sending a shockwave throughout the field sending smoke high up in the air.

When the Smoke cleared and Sauramon stared down at his adversary expecting him to be lying there. Instead just lie a crater and rubble. Sauramons face contorted with rage and confusion. He scanned the battlefield looking for Tom, but to no avail.

Suddenly lighting struck throughout the sky, the lightning was crimson red as if tainted with blood. The clouds exploded apart like a balloon being popped, and something was dropping at frightening speeds.

Tom had jumped hi into the sky at the last minute and let all of his rage out. He plummeted to the ground, a grin on his face. His fist grew red from the friction of the fall.

Finally he was within 100 feet of the ground, and Sauramon gained the sense to move. Tom struck the Ground, and person on the field flew into the air, squeling in fear.

The turmoil in the air was almost tangible, and Tom fell the ground cracking quickly under his knuckles. He darted after Sauramon, within seconds he was in front of him.

Sauramons face gave nothing away, but Tom could see in his eyes, that he was trembling in fear.

Tom threw his Fist into Sauramon, who flew back. As Sauramon flew back dust gathered around him like a whirlwind, and as his back slammed against Mt. Doom, an indent of Toms fist formed itself in the side of the mountain. The indent was 10 feet high, and caused the entire structure to shake, Rocks crumbled off and started rolling down causing panic down below.

Tom let grin slide out with no attempt to hold it back. Tom Jumped up into the air and landed on the entrance leading to the Adrenium. Running inside, destroying anything that stood in his way, he made his way to the inner chamber. Standing in front of the Adrenium, his excitement grew.

He reached for it, and felt the energy of it radiating off it. When suddenly he was bound by snake like chains. He fell to the ground and rolled on his back, and tried his best to break the chains but to no avail.

Tom rolled on his side and looked towards the mouth of the cave, he saw two Gray feet walking towards him.

"Hello Tom" Said Gandalf.


End file.
